


In Another Life

by InsominiacArrest



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe-marriage, Chaptered, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-09-05 04:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: After pursuing an unprotected Runestone on one of Etheria’s moons Catra is thrown through space and time toward an alternate life that is everything she never wanted.Now Catra can either go along with her new timeline until she can suckerpunch Princess Spacia in the face OR see if she can try and overpower this new reality too. Though it would help if her arch-nemesis would stop calling her ‘dear.’Catradora alt!timeline marriage AU





	1. Prologue: I Will Give you the Sun

_It’s not my fault._

Soft sniffling came from down below. Catra rolled over and put her hands over her ears, the muted sniffles seemed to reach her even there.

_It’s not my fault._

It was around 4am by that point and all the other cadets were either asleep or politely ignoring Adora’s muffled breakdown. Catra scowled to herself, Adora was always the smart one, trying to save her silent choked tears for late at night when weakness might be hidden more easily.

A soft hiccup came from down below, Catra rolled over again.

They would both be eleven in two months, Shadow Weaver would say that they should be over this kind of behavior by now. That they were almost full soldiers and beyond such indulgences. Adora gave another thin wail, burying the noise in her hands and trying to stifle it no doubt.

Guilt plummeted in Catra’s gut.

She gritted her teeth and screwed her eyes shut, _it’s not my fault!_

Adora rarely got in trouble, she rarely let herself- she was a winner after all, a champion as Shadow Weaver never failed to mention. _And maybe it was just time._ Catra thought to herself and let the dark thoughts settle in her like a nest of thistles, then she heard another little muffled sob.

Catra took a deep breath and carefully, silently, swung out of bed.

She landed on the cold metal floors with barely a sound, keeping her shoulders hunched and eyes down. A bundle of trembling thin green blanket lay in front of her, huddled and curled in on itself, Catra poked it with her toe. The bundle flinched for a moment and Catra leaned over to poke it more aggressively.

“Hey,” Adora turned over indignantly, her face marred by sorrow: blonde hair askew and clinging to her wet cheeks, eyes red and wet, nose a bright bulbous rouge color and running freely. She didn’t look like the Adora from earlier in the day who managed to do the obstacle course over 30 times. Catra winced at the sight of her.

_I_ _t’s not my fault._

She gestured loosely, “Come on,” she said just above whisper. “Get up.”

Adora’s face screwed up into a scowl and she wiped at her cheeks quickly, mopping up the tear streaks and pushing her damp hair back. “This isn’t what it looks like.” She said quickly, the usual line they all pulled.

Catra just shook her head, “Get up or I’ll pull you up.” She didn’t mean to snap, but the hard feeling in her gut was making nausea rise in her throat. She didn’t want to see Adora like this.

Adora rubbed at her face again, deep purple welts covered her arms from earlier that day and a matching yellowing bruise lay on her chin. She pulled her long white sleeves over them and looked away, Catra looked away as well.  
  
“I want to show you something,” She mumbled and yanked on Adora’s blanket, trying to pull it off of her and get her up all at once.

“Alright, alright,” Adora hissed and pushed herself to her feet, reaching for her jacket on the wall. “But don’t get us in trouble.” They both winced at the sentiment, remembering earlier yesterday.

Catra latched onto Adora’s wrist and started tugging her through the rows of bunks and sleeping bodies, soft snores and pained breathing surrounded them. Catra snagged two scarves from out of one of the other cadets trunks and quickly kept them moving.

“Those aren’t yours.” Adora said tightly since she was slow and well… _Adora_.

Catra leaned over and whispered into her ear, “True. Everything in here is Hordak’s, we all just borrow it.”  
  
Adora’s brow furrowed together and she was no doubt coming up with a comeback, but Catra is quicker and hurried them out of the barracks before she can. She pushed them past the east halls and up the kitchen steps toward the far roof.

Adora muttered a few questions here and there, but she had started yawning again halfway through, the sleeplessness probably catching up to her. Catra kept their pace brisk and unapologetically horizontal, Adora cursed a few times as she stubbed her toe in the dark as they climbed.

“No really,” she called out from behind, “Where are we going?”  
  
“Up.” Catra opened the first door to the outside and a harsh wind ripped around them.

“It’s not even morning yet,” Adora was squinting into the dark yellow clouds of the Fright Zone, Catra pulled her through and shut the door behind them.

“Yes, and I’m out of bed, you’re welcome.” Catra said with a grin and pointed at the nearby metal ladder. “Don’t tell Shadow Weaver now.”

Adora gave a slow smile, “Never.”  
  
Catra took her wrist, warm and thrumming under her fingertips, she probably didn’t need to at that point- but some things can’t be helped. She led her to the narrow maintenance access ladder, it was attached to a solid metal pole that went straight up into the sky. She turned toward Adora, “And don’t look down princess.”  
  
Adora puffed her cheeks out, “Don’t call people names.”  
  
Catra laughed, “Just don’t look down.” They started to climb.

It was just before dawn in the Fright Zone, the hum of city streets was barely audible in the dead of the morning. The constant clanking of machines and motors and gears turning and grinding made sure it was never quiet, but the hush of the chilled morning air was close.

It became quieter the higher they climbed, chasing the ladder up and up as they ascended toward the thick smog above. Adora started coughing half-way up.

“I swear, if this is some sort of training exercise…” She said loudly.

“Me? Voluntarily training? Ha!” Catra’s tail twitched, “No. It’s much better than that, I promise.”  
  
Adora opened her mouth to say something more, but Catra was already on her way up. Adora coughed again but followed obediently, the petty part of Catra commented that that was what she was good at.

The other part remembered the look on Adora’s face when she fell off the climbing structure yesterday. Adora had started it: puffing her cheeks up and crossing her eyes as she swung across the bars, scrunching up her face and jutting her jaw out. She made faces at Catra, making her laugh as Catra watched from the sidelines. Catra had already fallen off the obstacle course that Adora was now sailing through, the faces were one type of distraction.

Catra started making faces back: sticking her tongue out while pulling her ears, drawing her lips back and creating a double chin with her neck. Adora was giggling, waving slightly as she did, then one moment she was holding onto the thin metal bars, suspended in midair. And the next, she wasn’t.

Adora slipped, Adora never slipped.

Nevertheless, she thudded down painfully to the ground and landed on her knees, “Ah,” she hissed in pain and let out a cry. What followed next was much worse.

“What are you doing?” A voice thundered, materializing from nothing and descending from up above. Two yellow eyes turned on Catra, “Insolent fool, distracting her like that, what good are you if you’re just going to get in Adora’s way?”

Catra shrank back, mouth falling open but with nothing to say.  
  
Despite the fall Adora bounced back to her feet first and started running haphazardly toward them as Shadow Weaver formed from the dark. Catra was already flinching back and making herself small.

“No! It’s my fault, I was the one who started it.” Adora’s voice came out desperate and booming. Catra on the other hand was already trying to become one with the wall as she pressed her back up to it.

“It’s true!” She called, already feeling like a coward and screwing her eyes shut.

The yellow slits where Shadow Weavers eyes should be narrow, “Is that so, Adora?” The witch turned on her protege, “Have you been… losing focus?”  
  
Adora nodded ardently, “Yes, yes, I wasn’t paying attention.”  
  
Shadow Weaver snapped her fingers, “Then I suppose we’ll have to get your attention again,” her voice was cold and clipped, “I’m sure 30 more runs on the obstacle course should hold it.”  
  
Adora’s eyes went wide and Catra can only watch mutely. “Yes, Shadow Weaver.” Adora gave a low bow and then turned back to the course, jogging toward the starting line.

“That’s my girl,” Shadow Weaver said quietly before speaking up again, “And then come to my room. We’ll have… a talk.”  
  
Catra wasn’t sure what happened during their talk, but Adora didn’t come to dinner that night and when she showed up at the bunks she wouldn’t speak a word to the rest of them. Her face downcast and jaw firmly shut, a bright purple bruise blooming on her chin.

Catra knew that face, Catra had made that face before.

She shook her head and snapped herself back to the present, her frozen fingers pulling her up one rung at a time. “Are we almost there?” Adora called, she almost had a whine to her voice, which was unlike her. “And this better be an all you can eat breakfast.” She grumbled.

“Don’t worry,” Catra winked down, “They have eggs and toast and sugar cubes.”  
  
“Square ones?” Adora blinked a couple times.

“Four corners and everything!” They both laugh but the sound is quickly swept away by the breeze.

Catra tilted her face up, the heavy quilt of smog loomed up above, she passed one of the scarves down to Adora before they continued, “Here,” she called, “tie this over you mouth and nose.”  
  
Adora raised her eyebrows but didn’t question it, using one hand to wrap the long scarf around her face and breathe deeply, Catra does the same thing. “There’s a platform just up above.”  
  
Adora was coughing again, “Okay.” Her voice sounded worn out now, cracking at the end.

Catra set her jaw and picked up their pace, “just a little further!”

They entered the cover of dingy soot and ash, the pollution of the great billowing machines that worked twenty-four-seven in the Fright Zone. They were used to it by now, but that didn’t stop them both from coughing violently as they climbed directly into it.

“Almost there,” she called behind her, eyes watery from the sting of the yellow fog.

Adora gave a thick wet cough, “I-I can’t.”  
  
Catra reached down, “We’re almost at the platform! Keep going.” Catra managed to pep talk Adora to the resting spot, cheering her up the last few rungs. They clambered onto the circular metal area and sat for a moment, letting their arms rest and weigh heavily down by their sides.

They’re both breathless and flushed in the face.

Adora shook her head, “I don’t think I can make it another rung.” She looked pale and deep indents were formed under her eyes.

Catra’s muscles tensed and she lifted her chin up, “It’s just a little further.”  
  
Adora looked off the edge of the platform, “Look, Catra,” she said in a small voice, “I know you’re trying to do… something, but,” Adora took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Catra stood up with the heavy clank of her feet and walked over to her, thrusting her hand out into Adora’s face before the other girl can finish her thought. Adora blinked at her outstretched fingers.

“Give me your arms,” Catra demanded.

Adora wrinkled her nose, “What?”  
  
Catra gave an exaggerated sigh and knelt down, she turn her back to Adora and looked over her shoulder. “Give me your arms and wrap them around my neck.”

Adora looked Catra up and down suspiciously, “Again, what?”  
  
“You’re tired,” Catra growled, “Shadow Weaver made you do too many damned laps,” she backed up into her insistently, “Let me take you the rest of the way up.”

Catra didn’t look at her as she said it, she could feel Adora’s eyes on her though, considering her. Crying was one thing, but being carried by another person was whole other level of weakness.

“I won’t tell anyone.” She whispered, “just trust me, okay?” She huffed the last part.

To her surprise, Adora wrapped her arms around Catra’s neck, pressing her chest up against her back and latching on.

“Good,” Catra grunted and wobbled back to her feat, Adora wrapped her legs around Catra’s torso as they teeter into balance.

“Hold on,” Catra said slowly and grabbed onto the rungs, starting to haul the both of them up the metal rings one at a time. It was much slower going this time and she had to remind herself this was what she was built for. _I’m made for damn climbing,_ she chanted in her own head.

Adora was warm against her, her chest gently raising and falling, hard muscles wrapped around Catra’s body.

Catra lost track of time as she punched her way up through the cloud cover of the Fright Zone, her eyes stung and watered at the last toxic layer. She’s afraid that Adora’s fallen asleep at one point as the other girl was oddly quiet.

Nonetheless, Adora’s arms tightened around her as they saw a blurry glow of light just above.

“There,” Catra whispered, “There!” She pushed them the last couple inches up into the sky. Bright, pure light greeted them as the haze of smog dissipated. The very top of the radio tower awaited them: another flat circular platform with a blinking red light bulb at the highest point.

Catra was breathing heavily by then, her muscles complaining and teeth chattering as they made it the last bit of the way up, trembling slightly at every last push and pull. The sun’s first rays hit them, slow and almost tender.

Adora’s face was wet again, buried in the crook of Catra’s neck as she sniffled and hot silent tears pressed against her naked skin. She doesn’t say anything as Adora finished crying one last time.

She carried them the rest of the way up to the very top of the tower. They both gave a giant exhale, collapsing on the platform and letting themselves breath. It was so sharp and fresh up there that Catra is overwhelmed by a sudden dizziness.

She wasn’t sure she even recognized clean air at this point, she didn’t dwell on it and instead turned her face to the light.

“Look,” she nudged Adora with her foot, “Here it comes.”  
  
Adora turned, her face dry now, eyes still slightly puffy but the blue of her eyes clear and almost sparkling as they caught the light.

“Oh,” Adora gasped softly and they both shift toward the sunrise. “I almost forgot what that looked like.” She furrowed her brow and whispered, “I think I did forget.”

The sun was a sweet lemon drop on the horizon, reflecting off the miles of pillowy yellow clouds and breaking through the skyline like a blazing golden peach. It’s rays pierced the darkness of the smog below and slowly rose before them, chasing away the night like white ink spilling across a black page.

Catra closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the warmth soak into her cold body and tingle against her skin.

“Do you come here often?” Adora turned to her and Catra cracked her eyes open slightly, Adora’s eyes were huge and mouth ajar, as if stricken by something.

Catra shook her head, “Only when I need it.”  
  
Adora just nodded, “Thank you.” Her voice cracked, “Thanks for this…”  
  
They stayed silent, shoulders barely touching and words lost to them, Adora was motionless and quiet as they watched the sunrise and Catra watched her.

\--------------------------------

Many years later Catra’s ship pierced the thick wall of smog again, bursting above the cloud cover and into the cool night air. There was no sun rising this time and it’s only for a moment that she sees the blinking radio tower amongst the yellow murkiness.

But she can’t help but remember that moment, just for a second, the look on Adora’s face: stricken, almost frightened, overjoyed as they sat there on that platform.

Catra shook her head and tried to concentrate on her navigation as the second set of boosters engaged and she sailed out even further from the Fright Zone and into the heavens themselves.

Leaving the planet was one way of forgetting Adora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prologue first to my long-ass multi-chaptered marriage alt!timeline story


	2. The Fall

It was cold.

Not cold like the slip of ice against your fingertips or cold like the bite of windchill lashing against your cheeks. It was cold in the way emptiness was cold, in the way hunger was cold, in the way that made her teeth ache and every nerve in her body light up white and tingling.

Catra didn’t like it, she was already in a shitty mood that morning before she was ‘invited’ for an off-planet mission in nothing but her spandex pants and captain badge. She imagined herself holding up her flimsy green badge and telling the vacuum of space to fuck off.

So far, it hadn’t worked.

She was standing with her hood up at edge of a ginormous building with nothing but draping shadows on the ground and dull purple turrets looming up above. It looked like something out of a picture book or dark fairy tale, crumbling and towering above her.

An evil witch might live inside or an ancient curse that would turn her skin inside out, it was all fair game.

The building was peaked, peaked like a church is peaked or the way a mountain meets in a single perfect point. The walls were slanted and dark, an unlit candle in a field of rocks. It was a kaleidoscope of different deep purples, purple slanted sides, purple doors, a dull dusty violet roof.

There didn’t appear to be any windows and the enormous structure looked both like it was a growing out the landscape itself and yet entirely out of place, like a jewel in a coal mine. The ground was nothing to gawk at, grey and tasteless with craters every few steps. The backdrop was a vast inky black sky blended with silver blinking stars suspended by nothing, and a round turning planet just beyond.

Catra tried not to look at the ‘beyond’ since it turned her stomach, the perfect round orb in the distance- layered in clouds and perfect blue oceans. It was too much, an unnerving dream or unfortunate sort of afterlife she often thought about, she took a deep breath.

She was trying to ignore the fact she could breathe as well, Entrapta assured her that First Ones tech would let her breathe all the way up here, but Catra had trouble trusting people. Especially dead ones.

She shivered, clenched her teeth, and there’s nothing left to do but walk toward the towering pointed building. Her feet came down soft and feather-light, soundless and descending disconcertingly slow, Catra’s skin prickled, she walked more quickly.

When Hordak told her she was going on a special mission, the type he could only entrust to her, of course she told him ‘consider it done.’ He had failed to mention that it involved a rocket leapfrog ship careening thousands of miles per hour into the horizon.

Catra had kept her eyes shut for the trip, tail curled around her leg and ears flat against her skull, she usually liked to keep her paws on the ground and body below atmosphere.

“This better be fucking worth it,” she grumbled and craned her neck up to look at the enormous double doors of the First One’s ruins. A moon castle, home of ghosts and an aching sort of silence.

She cleared her throat and shifted from foot to foot, she carefully took out a piece of slim paper. She surveyed the letters for a long moment before clearing her throat again, “aperi ianum.” She mumbled and felt like a silly toddler spouting nonsense at a door, “Aperi ianum.” She tried again, this time more clearly. “Aperi ianum!” She pronounced each syllable, the door does not stir.

“Aperi ianum, aperi ianum, aperi ianum!” She howled at them, fists balled up and temperature rising.

Her blood boiled, burning thoughts aimed at Entrapta flood her. Why would she be able to understand First One’s language anyway?

Apparently only the ‘special’ and ‘gifted’ could pick it up easily. Special blonde idiots with swords, Catra huffed and crushed the paper. “Of course.”

The doors remained shut, Catra wasn’t going to be special, Catra was going to do things the hard way. She was always going to do things the hard way, with claws and teeth and spitting, she would have to throttle God Herself to get any kind of break.

She rounded the corner and didn’t hesitate to dig her heels into the metal and start scaling the building. This ruin wasn’t like the one in the Whispering Woods, it felt more like a corpse than a sleeping giant. She gouged her claws into the paneling and pulled herself up one heave at a time, she would have to file her nails back into sharp points later as the thick metal dulled them.

Her eyes scanned the roof and she kept climbing.

She’s shivering, aching in her shoulders and ass when she finally sees it, a slip, a crack, a crooked panel that fit wrong on the slanted surface. Every building at this age had to have them.

“Bingo,” she grinned widely as she dragged herself up, it took the full brunt of her claws to slice through the sealant and loosen the panel enough to slide it sideways. It was heavy and she almost slipped several times, but she kept her hands moving and thoughts busy.

She grunted as she pushed the metal to the side with a screech and looked down into a cold dimness below. There was nothing but a waiting darkness and distant obscured floor.

Catra took a deep breath, steadied her heartbeat, and lept.

The landing rocked through her spine and set her teeth on edge, it felt like jumping down from the top of a four story building. She shuddered but landed without toppling over.

A soft whump reverberated through the still air as she touched down, loud enough to echo down the halls like an eerie song. She winced and reached for the blaster on her hip, preparing herself for alarms or fires or dogs or all of that, but nothing lit up, no defenses flared. She stood up slowly, facing a massive high-ceiling and long corridor. It was as silent and faceless as anything else, Catra eyed the walls for another minute, searching for signs of sentry’s or lasers about to shoot her between the eyes.

Nothing, her first hunch was right, this place wasn’t like the one on Eternia, some light had gone out.

Catra dusted herself off and started walking, “Anybody home?” She called, somewhat sardonically, her voice echoed and she made a face.

“Sent to a graveyard. Great,” she rolled her eyes, “So much valuable war tech in this place. Really gonna kick their ass with some dust.” She narrowed her eyes, “I swear, if this another goddamn test…”

She fumed silently at the thought and took out a floor plan, Entrapta had scribbled it out like her wrist was having a jerky disco-party over the paper. Catra started walking despite herself- wandering deeper into the silent dark halls and following a bright red arrow: HEART OF BUILDING. A heart was drawn next to it, but Catra had a feeling that was Scorpia’s doing.

She passed wide halls with empty walls and soft ground that seemed to absorb her footsteps, colors were spat onto every surface but it was too dark to appreciate any of them. Catra came upon two doors but neither one lit up.

She forced her way through both, cursing the whole time and feeling a headache forming behind her eyes.

“Go to space Catra,” she grumbled. “It’s an important mission, change the whole war. Don’t you want to change the war Catra? Defeat Adora? Fuck you.” She paused as she heard her own voice bounce down the passage.

Adora’s name in particular seemed to be thrown back at her, kind of like an amplified kid mimicking someone, she growled and kept walking. Catra’s sense of direction seemed to get better with each step, something tingling deep down, like migrating birds drawn north or cattle turning away from a storm.

She had felt this before, but never so striking, a whisper against her neck, a light pull. She stopped talking to herself as she approached a pair of crystalline double doors, her own heartbeat thumped in her ears.

It was completely dark now and even she strained to see, several halls led to this point, she held her breath instinctively, something was inside these doors. The hairs on her arm were standing on end- the same type of feeling as being watched or hearing voices with no one attached.

She placed her palms on the wide doors, they were cool to the touch. She pushed experimentally, expecting the door to be solid and unmovable, another challenge to punch into dust. To her surprise the doors glided open like the hinges were greased with butter, easily swinging to the side to let her in.

She blinked a couple times and then adjusted the blaster in her hand. She frowned and entered a perfectly round room.

There were doors surrounding it on all sides, slim white doors facing each other and thick columns stoically forming a ring around a patch of streaming light. Catra squinted at the pale light and noted the giant hole up above letting it in, it was shaped like a sun.

She looked down and froze for a moment, a massive Runestone sat in the center of the room, lodged into the ground and sparkling a dull purple in the silver light. “Oh,” she said softly, it was massive.

She stood up straight and her eyes darted up and down for traps or censors, this was the Space Runestone. It was much larger than any Runestone she had seen before and twice as dead, barely thrumming with any life, she scanned it for cracks or any shattering.

Catra circled the rock for a solid five minutes, eyeing, calculating, thinking, it was too much. A tomb didn’t exist untouched like this for centuries without a reason and Catra hadn’t come this far to die at the hands of people who had failed at everything else lifetimes ago.

She took a step into the white silver light and braced herself, but just like the door nothing happened. Her muscles tensed and she crouched low to approach the Runestone, she had a portable hover platform tucked in her belt, but she hadn’t expected to actually need it.

Catra eyed the place where the stone was firmly lodged in the ground, “Oh yeah, smart. Send me alone to a massive rock. I can totally lift this, I’m known for my huge muscles after all. Ugh.” She growled.

Adora could lift this. The voice in her head called pointedly, loudly, and a flash of a young woman bathed in golden light went through her mind’s eye, tall and spotless. She could lift this easily. The memories make her snarl and she impulsively reached for the stone.

I’m not going to fall behind.

She bent down for the bottom of the stone and gets a firm grip on one of the edges. “Time to get up you piece of shit.” She yelled and lifted with her knees, the stone does nothing but stand firmly in place, “Move!” She ordered and pushed harder. “Move, dammit!”

Catra squeezed her eyes shut and shoved with everything she was worth, I need this. She pleads to it, I will blow this all up if you don’t move.

Water squeezed out of her eyes as she strained, the rock was still in place. Catra was about to take out her blaster and see if she could delicately scorch the ground around the Runestone to dislodge it.

She paused when she looked up and something caught her eye, something long and person-shaped. Someone was standing at the other side of the room.

“Uh,” her eyes went wide, she very suddenly wasn’t alone in there.

The figure was bathed in a silver light, her body willowy and seeming to waver in place- like wheat being blown by the breeze or a screen flickering. The thing was standing perfectly still, silver hair piled high on it’s head and a loose white dress clinging to its body, ornate and clinched at the waist.

The outfit didn’t look anything like styles from Princesses down below, or anything from Eternia at all. Its bodice was stiff and sleeves perfectly round and puffed up, the gown went all the way down to the girl's toes.

The figure looked up, chin firm and eyes dark, brown irises that appeared almost black, like burning holes sucking you in.

Catra took a step back, “this isn’t what it looks like.” She fell back on her usual defense, thoughts reeling for a moment- this thing hadn’t been there a second ago.

The girl blinked a couple times, she had a silver tiara blended in with her piles of elaborate braids, it’s a princess. Catra tensed and widened her stance.

“Don’t touch that,” the voice came out plain and echoing, somehow dusty and surrounding them from all directions. The girl’s brow folded into itself like she was confused, “You’re not supposed to touch it.”

Catra tilted her head to the side, her eyes dart to the Runestone and then back to the girl, “It doesn’t look like anyone’s using it.” She said carefully, attempting a stilted smooth-talk.

The princess took a step toward her, “Father says we’re not allowed to go near it. It’s not safe.”

Catra relaxed and flicked her tail back and forth, she leaned over and cupped her hands over her mouth like they’re sharing a secret, “But it doesn’t look like he’s here.” She gestured for the girl, “And I could take it somewhere safe- then no one can touch it, that’s better, don’t you think?” Catra’s hand brushed the stone again.

The princess’s face contorted, “I said don’t touch it!” She wasn’t standing on the other side of the room anymore, Catra had to duck as the girl appeared out of nowhere and whacked her hand away.

Catra rolled to the side, jumping back just in time as the girl appeared above her, dropping down from what looked like a fold in the air, two dimensional and thin. A slit from nothing. Catra had to be fast, jumping back and avoiding the kick of a sharp boot to the sternum.

The girl’s dress fluttered around her as she appeared and disappeared, that couldn’t be right. A boot landed inches from her left shoulder and Catra bobbed and weaved toward the shadows.

The girl lunged, Catra jumped into the air, suspended for a moment, inches from the nearest column, but it was too late, a hand thrust into her chest. “Ah!” She let out a strangled scream as a sharp freezing cold extended across her upper body, she landed heavily down.

The princess’s eyes went wide as her ghostly hand went through Catra’s chest, phasing through the flesh. Fresh tears formed in her eyes, “Catra,” she croaked her name, “You’re, oh my God,” tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh no.”

Catra flipped backward and slashed at the air to keep her back, the princess hung in the air, limp like a ragdoll. “I am princess Spacia,” she said in her chalky, parched sounding voice. She was perfectly still, “And you’re here to steal my Runestone.”

Catra threw herself toward the stone, “Don’t make another move or I’ll blas-” She didn’t finish her threat, a ringing popped in her ears and Spacia’s voice sent tremors through her bones.

“Something must be done.”

Catra was falling, slipping out from the ground and enveloped into a nothingness she couldn’t describe. She tried to scream but nothing came out, her muscles strained and her whole world toppled end over end, her body was loose and elastic, like it was coming undone.

She squeezed her eyes shut and every nerve in her body lit up, a faint floating sensation ricocheting through her. Her thoughts bleed into each other and then everything is gone, all gone, she was falling.

\--------------

Catra’s whole body was heavy, like sandbags were placed on her chest and limbs, her head was the heaviest part of all and ached dully. She groaned and turned over in bed.

“I’m going to go shower first,” a hand trailed down Catra’s shoulder, “go ahead and sleep for a little longer.”

The voice sounded familiar but muffled and distant, plus the idea of five more minutes of sleep sounded heavenly. Catra nodded into the pillow and buried her face into the soft fabric. A door shut from somewhere and Catra slipped away.

She wavered in and out of conscious, drifting, before a sharp sense of wrongness punctured her thoughts. Why was her bed so soft? Why was someone showering before her?

Catra jolted upright, eyes flying open, soft white sheets covered her. Two pillows sat next to each other on a massive bed that could fit a small army.

Catra turned in quick circles, sheets twisting around as she moved. She yelped as she spotted her own hands, they were long with sharp dark claws as always. However, a jagged white scar zig-zagged across her right hand, she kicked the blankets off and stumbled upright.

Her messy hair tickled her neck. It was shorter, her hair was shorter and everything else was longer, her outfit had switched to a pair of knee-length red pajamas. She pushed her bangs back and caught a glance of herself in the mirror.

“What the fuck!?” She yelled at the top of her lungs, she held her aching head and tried not to start hyperventilating. Light was streaming through a pair of double windows, there was a pale pink dresser across from her and shelves covered in shiny loose items- books and ornaments and drooping houseplants.

This really wasn’t the barracks. “Ah!” She jumped back from the whole garrish display.

“Catra?” A worried voice called and someone streaked into the room, body tensed.

Catra went completely stiff, it was the person from this morning- the one who told her to sleep a little longer. The one she memorized the back muscles of, the one she chased down hallways as kids, and pummeled pillows into shreds as she imagined her face.

Adora. Her thoughts ground to a halt and her mouth fell open. Adora.

The woman in front of her was also a little broader, more filled out, her blonde hair was longer and laying wet and loose around her face. A _dora would never wear her hair down._

That was Catra’s first thought.

And then she saw the light satin robe and bare feet, Adora wasn’t even armed. Catra hissed and slashed at the air in front of her, a warning.

“Was it a nightmare?” Adora’s voice was high-pitched and urgent, she strode toward her, “Catra, it’s over. It’s over, I’m here. Come back to me.”

“Wha-”

The woman wrapped her into a hug before she knew how to react, she smelled like warm water and peach shampoo. _What the fuck._

Her long arms wrapped around Catra like a chain link fence and Adora rested her chin on her shoulder, she was even taller than before.

Catra stood awkwardly with her hands at her side and listed off curse words she knew, she was being punished for something. She had a feeling that damned Princess Spacia had something to do with this new nightmare, and of course Adora was there.

Adora pulled back to look her in the face, “Hey, hey, I’m here.”

Catra pointedly doesn’t look her in the face, instead her eyes drag down to a golden necklace around the other’s neck. It was a sun.

It was a perfect golden sun, with waving light beams coming out of a swirling center. It had a single name engraved on it: _don’t let go- Catra._

She almost choked on her own spit, a golden band hung just behind the sun. A wedding ring.

This had to be a punishment for every bad thing she’d ever done, and it was apparently a long list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! :D  
> it's up


	3. The Question

_This is wrong._

Catra’s brain was a trolley screeching down rusty train tracks toward a brick wall, no soft landing in sight.

Hands, warm hands, callused hands, large hands, hands she knew, sat on her shoulders. The right index finger was slightly crooked from being breaking too many times and both of her pinkies were abnormally short.

Adora was staring at her. Adora was staring at her in _that way._

Catra didn’t know how to describe ‘that way,’ but it wasn’t something she had seen before- they had been trying to knock each other’s teeth in and find new ways to reinvent the black eye last time Catra had seen Adora.

Now her hands were resting on Catra’s shoulders.

Adora searched her face, gaze soft and probing, “it’s okay now.” She said again, tone destructive in it’s earnestness, “deep breaths, in, out, breath with me.”

Catra’s tail thrashed back and forth behind her, her training told her to take advantage of this- skewer the enemy while her defenses were covered in a fluffy white bathrobe. Her better instincts told her this was all too weird to start shit.

Catra opened her mouth, and then closed it, she blinked a couple times. Her eyes dart around the room, “Where… where is this?” She finally asked.  
  
Adora’s lips pinched together, expression collapsing into bright concern, Catra had to stop herself from flinching away. “The castle,” Adora said slowly, “home, you’re safe now, safe.”  
  
“Right,” Catra glanced around the pastel room with enough sunlight to foster a small herb garden. Catra cleared her throat, “a bad dream.”  
  
Adora’s shoulder’s seem to relax slightly but her face was still bunched up, “Want to talk about it?”  
  
Catra just shook her head, “No? It was just…. Spiders? And water… and clowns.” She tried to clarify, as if that made it better. Catra had a feeling that ‘I was on the moon in a stupid space castle five minutes ago’ wouldn’t go over well.

Especially trapped in enemy territory.

Adora’s hand trailed up and her fingers lightly stroked Catra’s cheek, Catra forced herself not to balk. “Do you want to take the day off?” Adora gave a shallow smile and then shimmied her shoulders back and forth, “we could stay in bed all day, tell the guards we're terribly sick with sleepy-itus.” Adora’s smile was shining now, all white teeth and a slight dimple in her chin.

Catra took a slight step back, “you hate staying in bed.”  
  
Adora gave a rough chuckle, “I could make an exception.”

Catra shook her head, “I, uh, no,” she stood up straight, “I’m fine now.” _I need to go to the goddamn moon now._

“Are you sure?” Adora was still examining her, but she lets her hands fall to her sides- freeing Catra from their grasp. She looked her up and down, “I really don’t mind.”

Catra rolled her eyes, “I’m some porcelain doll, idiot. It’s fine, I’m not breaking.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say as Adora’s face relaxed and she turned slightly. “Well, if you’re absolutely certain.”  
  
“Ugh.” Catra scowled.

Adora chuckled and strolled across the room toward a large pale red dresser, “Just let me know if you need anything, hairball.” Adora opened her wardrobe and pulled her long blonde hair back, she had an undercut now. She looked across her rows of pressed colored clothes.  
  
Catra exhaled and her thoughts resumed spinning like a washing machine on high. She turned around as Adora dropped her robe and retrieved things from her closet. Did Catra have a closet? Did she had a stupid fluffy robe? Did she walk around this pastel nightmare and stroke people’s faces as if they were breakable dishware?

Or did they have handcuffs with her name on them on the walls? She imagined a scenario where she happened to be the strangest prisoner of war the princesses could concoct.

“Are you,” Adora called over to her, “are you going to get ready? If we _are_ going to do today, remember the 9 O’Clock at Blue House? Starla will kick your ass if you’re late again.”  
  
Catra turned back around and shifted from foot to foot, “Of course I am.” She responded incredulously. Of course she did things here, they probably brainwashed her into shining Adora’s boots and chewing her food for her too. Shadow Weaver would love that.

Adora pointed slowly over to a wide dresser on the other side of the room, this one was a mellow brown, with curved lion feet and a long mirror on top. A worse-for-wear hairbrush sat on top with thick curly hairs caught in the teeth, several knocked over bottles and a shredded ribbon sat next to it. That all looked like her.

Catra nodded and fidgeted her way over to it.

Adora’s eyes were still following her, probably watching for another mental breakdown. 

Catra could feel herself fluffing up at the attention, but she tried to ignore her fur standing on end and a blush rising in her neck. She threw a glare over her shoulder. 

“I’m fine, okay? Do you need me to do backflips or repeat the periodic table to you? I’m not going to fucking combust.” She grumbled and opened her drawers, reaching for the first shirt she sees. It was a flexible spandex material with a red bodice and maroon sleeves that only slightly puffed up, it had a matching belt cinching the waist.

It would do (Catra wasn’t going to say ‘cool’ to herself).

Adora sighed, “save the backflips for breakfast,” she said slowly, “And then we’ll see.” Catra made a face at her, but Adora just returned a soft smile and went to the door, “I’ll save you a seat.”

Catra raised her eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything more, apparently they still had cafeteria’s in fuckery-land. Adora left her, finally, and Catra yanked on some leggings and look for any blunt objects she could tuck into her belt.

It was time to get the hell out of princess-castle-central.

Catra quickly glanced at herself in the mirror, she was just as lithe and muscled as she remembered, but her hair was chin-length and slightly more kept. More soft waves and less split ends, she was slightly taller and the ugly scar across her hand stood out white and jagged in the mirror.

Catra took a deep breath and tugged on one of her ears, “Who are you?” _And why the hell did this person have this life?_  
  
She walked out of the room, stiffly, shiftily, she just needed to pretend a little longer before she could locate some ally’s or lighting that didn’t give her a headache. Catra crept out into an enormous hall, it had high ceilings and rows and rows of long, ornate crystal windows.

The floor was a sleek lavender with rainbow specks in it and the walls were a pure chalky white with grand embedded columns. This wasn’t the castle she remembered from before, the coloring was off, the style was different, it was something else.

Catra looked both directions before choosing one and starting to run, all she needed was a way out. She took several right turns down identical halls, avoiding a couple with silver-clad guards standing at doors and trying to locate any sort of clues.

Dizziness settled in her gut as she kept turning, it was too much, she exhaled when she finally spotted an open balcony door, “Bingo.” She whispered, she went to go climb out.

“Hey!” Catra froze in place, someone called to her, “Look who else is late for breakfast, oh ho ho.”

 _No no no,_ this morning would never end.

Someone slapped her gently on the back, “I’ll trade you whatever is left of the peach slices if you give me your yogurt.”  
  
Catra turned creakily around, ears standing upright and heartbeat pounding, “What the hell…?” She whispered under her breath.

A man in a white crop-top was standing next to her, a blood red heart presented proudly on his chest and accompanied by a blinding smile. He was taller, broader, and there was a half-star design shaved into either side of his head. He had gold shoulder pads now and white boots that reached his knees, he wasn’t carrying a bow for the first time Catra had seen him.

And he was standing particularly close. Looking at her. Addressing her.

Catra shrank back from Bow, “Can I help you?” Sure, maybe Adora would act weird with her, but Catra figured that was just Adora- she was always going to be weird with her.

But this was a princess ally. This was an enemy combatant. This was a man that she tried to carve up and tried to shoot her in the face in return.

His smiling at her blithely, “Oh man, is that a real offer?” Bow’s eyes sparkled, “Glimmer will be so jealous if I get a Catra-favor. Can you put a squeaky toy on the queen’s chair? No! In Glimmer’s bed.”  
  
Catra was floating further from his grasp, none of this could end well.

“I have to be somewhere…” She mumbled and turned loosely the other direction, torturing her with feather pillows and smatterings of rainbows was one thing, confusing her to no end was another.

“Yeah,” he gave her a funny look, “Breakfast.” Catra’s hair fluffed up again as he put a hand on her shoulder and guided her gently toward a set of double doors, “did you have a fight with Adora?” He eyed her, “because I told her not to try that new cologne. It smells like fish, did she make you smell her fish cologne? I told her, I told her.”  
  
Catra thrashed her tail back and forth and tried to retract her claws, every instinct in her was telling her that the enemy was vulnerable. He was yammering, his entire stomach was exposed. She was probably failing Hordok in so many ways right now.

Catra was seconds away from breaking whatever facade this was and giving the princess alliance something to really fear when a wave of smells overcame her. Warm, harsh, and rushing through her system like a shot of adrenaline, she turned toward another massive room.

It had white spotless floors and rows of purple tables with court members seated around in bunches, chatting and laughing and wiping at sleepy eyes. Forks and knives clattered against plates and the entire ceiling was a glass sky light- Catra couldn’t escape the damn sunlight wherever she went in this palace it seemed.

Catra might have expected this fuckery from princesses- silk tablecloths and glass plates, people lazing about mid-morning while other people did real work. But her eyes were dragged to the long tables on the side of the wall, this wasn’t any cafeteria she was used to.

Long tables held platters filled with fresh steaming milky buns, lightly golden scrambled eggs, sweet fruits- orange dripping melon and purple grapes so dark they look black, sizzling greasy bacon stacked high and thick jiggly bowls of oatmeal. Yogurt in large vats and orange juice the color of a sunset, Catra took another step back. She swallowed dryly.

No wonder princesses were trying to kill her, she might kill for this too.

“Uh yeah,” Bow was watching her, “they’re still ramping it up for the visiting dignitaries,” Bow whispered in her general direction, “Glimmer’s calling it ‘food seduction’ but I liked your ‘diplomatic taste bud felatio’ better.” He snickered.

Catra wasn’t listening, she dove for a plate, Hordak's God forsaken mission could wait.

She piled two plates high with everything that smelled remotely like it hadn’t come from a bubbling vat or dog-food can. Her mouth watered and she greedily added fruits and bread to any empty available space, no wonder she put on some weight in this place.

Catra twitched her nose pleasantly and then retreated toward the back of the room, “Catra!” Adora waved from a central table, a stout woman with short purple hair sat next to her.

Catra turned her back and searched for a solitary table.

“Is this because of your fish-cologne?” She could hear Glimmer ask from across the room.

“Shut up, Catra had a hard morning.”  
  
“Did she have another hairball?” Catra’s face flared red, _what had Adora been revealing about her?_  
  
“Not this time,” Adora began to whisper back, “She woke up w-” Catra turned around hotly and stomped her way over to her least favorite trio.

“HELLO.” She said loudly so Adora couldn’t spout nonsense about her having nightmares to everyone. No one needed to know she had dreams or feelings or even remotely slept.

She sat down with a thunk and eyed them darkly for good measure. Out of the three of them, Glimmer seemed the most different. Her purple hair was even shorter, a pixie cut that showed off more of the glittering under-layer, her bangs swept up into a nice soft curl.

She had large gilded-silver shoulder pads, like armour, meeting around her throat in a single diamond. A short violet cape rested over her shoulders and she wore a fitted purple vest with ornate silver buttons down the front and dark blue riding pants that came down to her knees. Several rings glittered on her fingers and a single circuit wound around her forehead with a shimmering star-light gem in the center. It twinkled and glowed gently in place.

Catra’s body tensed up around the woman, she was taller, but not by much, and something about her filled the space now. She was _more_ , unmistakably solid and upright, like a column in a center of a room that caught your eye.

Catra didn't stare for too long.

Instead, she turned to her meal and dug her teeth in, she was hungry but not in the way she expected. She immediately made a soft sound around the steaming white bun that tore away fluffy and warm in her mouth.

She stuffed in bacon slices that dripped down her chin and scrambled eggs covered in herbs. Her jaw complained at her as she chewed, but she didn’t care, who knew how long she had left in this hell to begin with.

“Uh,” Glimmer was staring at her, “Okay.”  
  
Catra ignored them as she swallowed, mechanically taking in the fresh grapes that burst across her tongue and tangy melons that tasted like sunshine. She didn’t pause until she heard Adora laughing, her eyes blazed up and Adora was snickering at something Bow said.

“No, I didn’t make her sleep on the couch. She’s just hungry, shove off guys.”  
  
“No, no, I was saying,” Bow was grinning, “she got tangled in the sheets again and you spent all morning trying to get her free, right?”  
  
Glimmer groaned, “If we have any more shredded blankets…”

“That will complete my Catra bingo actually,” someone said from the other side of the table and they laughed, but Catra wasn’t looking, she was looking at Adora. Adora, leaning on her hand and grinning widely.

 _Is this why you left?_ Catra couldn’t help the thoughts leaking out, _Some food that didn’t taste like black paste and a soft bed?_

She chugged the orange juice with a vengeance and made sure her eyes didn’t water.

She finished and stood up abruptly, “I’m going for a walk.” _To the moon._

Glimmer raised an eyebrow up at her, “The Blue House is expecting a visit at 9.”  
  
Catra made a face, “Sure, yeah.” She turned and fluffed her short dark hair.

“Come on, we know she built her own houses so she could be late to them,” Bow joked.

“Do you know how many calls I get about ‘where is your cat-lady?’ a week?” Glimmer grumbled.

Catra turned around, her eyes scanning the cafeteria, it was busy with vivid unarmed couturiers, people in long gowns and high heels, soft silks and bright smiles. She thought she recognized some of the princesses, but that would have to wait.

“...and hey, Catra,” The voices turned back to addressing her, “if we can help with anythin-,” A hand reached out to grab her wrist, thick fingers that had the marks of royalty all over them. The rings dig into her flesh.

Catra could handle a lot of things, Adora being handsy, their henchman being overly-familiar, but this was a princess, her reflexes kicked in. Catra swiftly jerked back and bared her teeth, rolling her lips up and letting out a violent hiss from deep in her chest.

Her claws curved out of her nail beds and she slashed lightning quick through the air, Glimmer was faster, her body disappearing into a mist of sparkles before she struck. The woman appeared just behind her chair, face flushed red and eyes burning, “What the hell Catra?”

“Protect the Queen, protect the queen,” voices chorused and suddenly guards materialized to grab Catra’s wrists and restrain her.

Catra took a step back, eyes wide and heart pounding, she couldn’t go to jail like this. She barely gotten here. “Sorry,” she stuttered out the word unnaturally, swiftly trying to cover her tracks. She wasn’t the idiot Shadow Weaver always figured her to be, “My bad.”  
  
“Your bad?” One of the guards spat in her direction, “you could have maimed her.”  
  
Adora stood up quickly, her hands out in reconciliation, “Catra’s been having nightmares, she’s not herself.”  
  
All eyes were on them. Catra wanted to run, she needed to run, but the hands were still on her.

She nodded quickly, “it was, uh, instinct.” She groped carefully for the right words. She scanned the crowd and was struck across the face with a sea of distrust. Their eyes were hard and mouths thick frown lines or disgusted grimaces, maybe this wasn’t the utopia of puking gaudy rainbows she thought it was.

Whispering erupted and Glimmer put her hand up, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she waved her hand through the air and settled the tension, “no harm done.” She flashed a mischievous grin to the crowd, “We all know I can take Catra in a fight anyway.”  
  
A laugh rippled through the crowd, a little forced around the edges but it broke the taut air.

Catra’s lips curled back again at that, but she controlled herself. She smiled instead, “You got me there.”  
  
The room exhaled and someone else was taking her hand, lacing their fingers together and gently pulling her aside. Adora was back, Adora was taking her to the door as people shot ugly looks at them.

 _The Queen._ The word reverberated through Catra’s head like a burst party streamer.

Voices rippled quietly around them like disturbed dark waters.

“I always knew She-ra couldn’t control her…”  
  
“Can you imagine, the queen?”

“She-ra’s wife was always so… feral. Why didn’t she choose someone…”  
  
The words are hushed and distant, but prickled against Catra’s skin sharply, like sand paper and rocky river bottoms scraped against pale pink feet.

_She-ra’s wife._

_Wife. Queen._ Adora, Glimmer.

Something was deeply wrong here


End file.
